


mirror-shards

by bookhobbit



Series: The Magic Circle [1]
Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-02
Updated: 2016-02-07
Packaged: 2018-04-24 09:10:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4913617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookhobbit/pseuds/bookhobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Small portraits of life at Starecross.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> aka "things I want in the Magic Circle series but which aren't long enough to properly title". I'll prooobably drop anything that's under 1k off here.
> 
> Not in chronological order. Just like absolutely everything else about this series. :p

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what tense am I writing this series in? God knows but when I find out I'm going to be in strife because I'll have to go and convert whatever doesn't fit.

July 1822

 

Vinculus was lying propped up against a stone, watching with interest as a man dressed in all black - a very foolish notion considering it was broad daylight - attempted to climb across the roof of Starecross, when the two of them found him.

“There you are,” said Childermass. He glanced at the figure on the roof. “I thought you would have taken yourself off to the pub once you’d got your usual bribe off him.”

“And miss my evening’s entertainment?” said Vinculus, as the man’s foot slipped on a trick tile. He managed to catch himself just in time. Vinculus shouted “That’s the way of it, just that direction!” by way of encouragement.

That direction was, in fact, towards a trapdoor that would land the man in a net below the roof. Vinculus seemed to be looking forward to this moment with great anticipation.

“Really, Vinculus,” said Arabella. “You should stop taking their money. It is not a good thing to do.”

“Don’t  see why not,” said Vinculus. “I tell them the wrong way and you fox them with your little traps, and I take all their money so that they cannot bribe someone less ethical than me. I am doing you a favor and defanging them.”

Arabella looked horrified at this pronouncement. Childermass said, “The man’s got a point.”

“Childermass,” said Arabella disapprovingly.

Vinculus grinned at Childermass. “Thank you kindly,” he said, and whooped when the man on the roof fell neatly through the trapdoor and into the net. The sound of cursing floated across over the lawn.

“Very nicely done,” he said appreciatively. “Very good effort. Got nearly across the roof that time.”

“We shall have to construct some better traps,” said Childermass, looking back at Arabella. “Have you rebuilt your store of ideas?”

Arabella smiles at this. “I have a few ideas,” she said. “And I shall ask Jonathan when I see him next. We cannot have people sneaking in to see our magicians in their mirrors, can we?”

“What was this one?” asked Childermass. “Strangeite or Norrellite?”

“Strange, I think,” said Vinculus. “Said he heard a rumor that the magicians were back and he wanted to speak to Mr Strange. But perhaps he was a Norrellite and wanted to debate him. I did not ask.”

Childermass sighed. “I ought to stamp down on the rumors first of all,” he said. “It is bad enough that there are people who know Strange and Norrell are communicating by mirror. If we have rumors of their return it will become even worse.”

“Well, that is what we have you for,” said Arabella, patting his arm. “There would be little point in you remaining so very much like a sinister figure out of a Gothic novel if you did not occasionally have someone to intimidate.”

Childermass shot her an annoyed glance. Vinculus cackled.

“She has got the measure of you,” he said, and stood up. “Now if you excuse me, I _will_ take myself off to the pub, now that the amusing part is over. Enjoy negotiating with your prisoner.”

He sloped off, leaving Arabella and Childermass to begin the walk back to the house to collect the trespasser.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the-moodyfoodie on tumblr prompted this

February 1817

 

Childermass had been at Starecross for nearly a week now. The consequences of Mr Norrell’s disappearance had spun themselves out and it was clear he was not coming back.

Childermass wished him well. If Mr Strange had been with him, he supposed Mr Norrell had everything he wanted.

All the same, it was - odd, not to have to worry about him any more. He could not quite grasp the idea that after more than twenty years, his duties were at an end.

Some of this must have shewn in his face at times, for one evening after supper, Honeyfoot and Segundus ambushed him.

“Are you well”? said Honeyfoot. His air of fatherly concern was quite impressively-crafted. Childermass supposed that was because he had daughters.

Childermass raised an eyebrow. “I fail to see why it should be of concern to you gentlemen. You did not care for my master at all - with good reason, I concede. Why trouble yourself about his servant?”

“For the same reason we asked you to stay while you were getting matters sorted out,” said Honeyfoot. “Our personal feelings should not keep us from doing our Christian duty.” There was a touch of an indignant air there. Childermass felt himself smile. Christian duty. Good god. Well, they probably believed it, too. Childermass had spent so long among ministers and lords that he had quite forgotten that some people did not always have conscious ulterior motives.

“In any case,” Segundus added, “You cannot be blamed for your master’s sins. You are - you were - his servant. You were doing your job.”

Childermass shrugged. “That’s as may be, but I did nothing against my will,” he said. “Some of it against my better judgment, perhaps but not even all that. I’d stand by most of it now.”

Segundus looked away. “Even the school?”

“Especially the school. The time was not propitious. Mr Norrell would have had it stopt one way or the other. Best if I did it, quiet-like.”

“And now?” said Segundus.

“No business of mine what you do with it, now that Lady Pole is unenchanted.”

Segundus nodded, a determined light in his eye. “The time is propitious now,” he said.

“I think it is,” said Childermass, smiling a little around his pipe.

Segundus smiled back, and Honeyfoot patted him on the back in a jovial way.

“Are you seeking new employment, Childermass?” said Segundus.

Childermass snorted. “No,” he said. “Mr Norrell was the last master I shall ever have.”

“You were with him for thirty years, were you not?” Segundus asked. “It is a long time.”

“Not quite so long,” said Childermass. “Twenty-seven.”

“All the same, the change must be difficult to adjust to.”

Childermass inhaled a little too sharply.

Because - yes, it was. He’d thought to miss the - little extras, they had shared. He had cursed the thought, and himself for a fool, but he’d expected it. Waking up with the sense-memory of Mr Norrell’s hair between his fingertips, the warmth of him when they slept beside each other - that was one thing. One cursed thing, that he could not quite shake entirely, but he had been prepared for it.

What he had not seen coming was the ordinary day-to-day routine. Lacing Mr Norrell’s vest up and hearing him complain that it was too tight or too loose. Looking in on him to see he was eating and sleeping. It was less like losing a person and more like losing an appendage - something you did not think about, but always expected to be there. Something like taking a step down to a stair that was not there. Something like turning to your companion halfway through a speech and finding them gone.

He exhaled and said, “Somewhat.” Before he could stop himself he added, “He used to stay up late nights. I keep thinking I ought to go and check the library to see that he’s been to bed. It is - ” He cut himself off successfully then. Even that much felt like showing a soft underside he did not want to, but it was also a sort of unloosening. He breathed a little easier, having said it.

“I imagine it must be very disconcerting,” said Segundus. His voice was gentle; Childermass thought there might be pity in it and he wanted to fight against it.

“Well,” said Childermass, “Any change is difficult at first.”

“What will you do?” said Honeyfoot.

“Oh! I imagine I shall be busy enough. I mean to become a magician properly. I mean to see that magic is used well.” Childermass shrugged. “I believe I may say without being immodest that I know more about magical law than most other people in England today.”

“Yes,” said Segundus, “I imagine you do.” He hesitated, then said, “If you ever need a place to stay while you are in Yorkshire - Starecross has many rooms, and I am sure we can find you one.”

“Thank you,” said Childermass. He wondered whether this was also meant to be part of their Christian duty.

He was going to have to adjust his expectations, if he was going to work with them regularly.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set shortly after Strange and Norrell return. Also I don't know how to footnotes. I know there's a thing somewhere but it seems such a lot of trouble for a single thing in a 700-word story, you know?

March 1827

Mr Norrell shuffled into Segundus’s study, gazing down at his feet.

"Ah," said Mr Segundus. "Mr Norrell. Is there something I can do for you…?"

"Your account of the fairy-servants of Martin Pale," said Mr Norrell, apparently to the floor.

Mr Segundus's brow furrowed. "Yes?" he said.

"It was a creditable piece of work," said Mr Norrell.

Mr Segundus blinked. The words brought back a tide of memories he had thought lost - the smell of old paper and the eerie light in Mr Norrell's drawing room. 

"So you said to me once," he said. "A very long time ago."

Mr Norrell looked up. "You remember," he said.

"A little." Mr Segundus smiled a tiny smile. "I have become much better at sensing magic than I was then."

Mr Norrell nodded. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and put his hand up. In it was clutched a book.

Mr Norrell performed a most curious operation with this book. He held it out, feeling in front of him for the desk. When he had found it, he felt around for a flat surface. Then he hovered his hand over it and suddenly but gently set the book down. For a long moment, he simply rested it there; then he began to remove his fingers from the spine, one by one.

When they were all off, he patted the book once, very carefully, as if settling it in its  new home. Then he drew his hand back to his side and opened his eyes.

Mr Segundus, it must be said, was quite startled by all of this. He said, "I am not sure I understand, sir."

Mr Norrell returned his gaze to the floor, although he kept darting little glances up at the book. "It is Curiose Observations upon the Anatomie of Faeries by Holgarth and Pickle," he said. "It contains all known information on Master Fallowthought." Mr Norrell began to rub his hands together. "I thought you might like to complete your monograph."*

Mr Segundus stared at him, speechless. He did not like to explain to Mr Norrell that his monograph was in any case now some twenty years old and almost certainly out of date. Nor did he like to say that he was no longer particularly interested in the fairy-servants of Dr Pale. He did not wish to do anything that would bring Mr Norrell to his senses and cause him to snatch the book back and abscond from the room with it.

Instead, he cleared his throat and said, "Thank you, sir."

"You must treat it carefully," said Mr Norrell. "You must exercise the utmost caution when you consult it. It is very old, you know." He twisted his fingers together anxiously. “I will come and see it, I will know if it is damaged - “

"I shall not damage it," said Mr Segundus. "I am very experienced in handling old documents, I assure you, I will keep it very safe."

"And it must be returned as soon as you are finished with it," said Mr Norrell.

"Of course. I will take it directly to your room," said Mr Segundus.

Mr Norrell gave the book one last look out of the corner of his eye, and nodded at Mr Segundus. Then he left, still darting glances backwards, although whether to Mr Segundus or the book, Mr Segundus himself could not tell.

Mr Segundus watched him go, and looked down at the book on his desk.

He consulted Childermass about the matter later, because Childermass would know. 

Unfortunately, he only laughed.

“He asked me about it,” he said, the corners of his mouth pressed together in amusement. “I tried to tell him he ought to seek out some subject you were interested in now, but he would not listen. He thought this would be better. There is no talking him out of a thing when he has decided he will do it.” Childermass gave Mr Segundus a look. “In that respect, he is very like you.”

Mr Segundus was not sure how he felt about being compared to Mr Norrell. So he filed this away until he knew how to react to it, and said, “Do you mean to tell me he planned this?” 

Childermass shrugged. “I believe it is his way of making amends,” he said. “I do not know if you will get a proper apology - probably you will not. But he lent you a book. To him, that is the much greater sacrifice.”

This, at least,  Mr Segundus thought he understood.

In the end, Mr Segundus updated the monograph, and because Mr Norrell had lent him the book, he shewed it to him before he sent it to be published. Mr Norrell repeated his opinion that it was a creditable piece of work, and said that now that Master Fallowthought was included, he thoughtit was quite as complete as current knowledge would allow for.

The magical community seemed to agree, for it was quite well-received. Arguments raged over it for years, and what more could a scholar ask for than that?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This incident seems to have set a precedent, for soon most of the teachers at the school were being permitted to read some of Mr Norrell's books (although not necessarily to remove them from the safety of the library, not without the direst of need and a frustratingly long process of approval from Mr Norrell himself). The students were not - most assuredly not - but Jonathan Strange and John Childermass were almost certainly accessing books at this time in any case. Strange likely shared them with his wife, something Mr Norrell could not have prevented regardless of whether he wanted to or not. Emma Wintertowne's access seems to have been in the nature of an apology, just as John Segundus’s was; there are hints that Strange and Childermass were, again, quite heavily involved in bringing this about. It is said that Wintertowne read a great deal about magical history and the Raven King there, and this seems to have influenced her teachings significantly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is technically just over 1000 words but it's not quite complete enough to be it's own thing. It's pretty directly spun off Moll's I could love you. I actually wrote it last November shortly after the original was posted, after a conversation about ace/allo pairings and finding the value in relationships with ace people, so it's sort of an exploration of the idea that there can be advantages to being with an asexual person even if you're allosexual, rather than it just being a constant sacrifice. Anyway, yes, here it is some two months later.
> 
> I may be entering another fic-finishing phase where I post too much and I apologise.

December 1818

It was curious. Segundus had thought he would miss it.

That was not to say he did not entirely. Certainly the physical urge was still there, though that could be dealt with. But he had gone into this afraid, hopeless, thinking that it would never work. Childermass would have no reason to stay with him if he did not want anything of him.

And yet it seemed that Childermass did; it seemed that he was content with Segundus's hands in his, with lying on the bed entwined with Segundus, with leisurely kissing that would lead to nothing else, and to Segundus's surprise, he found that he himself was content with that too.

He was in this position now - arms wrapped around Childermass and Childermass's around him, simply resting together. It was such a peaceful feeling, and felt so free of expectations. It was astonishing that he had not realized what this could mean.

It reminded him of Oliver, the early heady days of new-discovered love, when holding hands had felt forbidden and exciting; he felt as though he was rediscovering himself.

Segundus leaned forward a little and rested his forehead on Childermass's. He sighed.

"I am sorry I cannot give you what you want," whispered Childermass, quite unexpectedly.

But Childermass was often melancholy, and so Segundus did not express surprize. He only reached out and cradled his face. "I told you before that you are what I want."

"And I told you that you were a fool."

Segundus shook his head. "Never apologise for being what you are. I only wish I had more to offer you in return. I am afraid I am a very dull person."

Childermass took Segundus's hand. "No. You very much are not."

Segundus leaned above him to kiss him, and Childermass slid a hand into his hair and kissed back.

"I wish I knew who made you feel like you yourself could not be enough, without offering the rest," Segundus said finally, placing another gentle kiss on his mouth. "I know I have hurt you and I am deeply sorry for it - "

"It was not you."

"Not Mr Norrell."

Childermass snorted. "No. He was even more - absent of proclivities than I am."

"Then who - " Segundus checked himself. "I am sorry. I should not pry."

"I don't mind." Childermass shook his head. "It is only that it is not so simple. There was not a single person. It is more..." He stopt, and seemed to consider. "A buildup of incidents. For instance, I was a sailor."

"Ah, so that is the origin of the tattoo."

"Yes." Childermass sighed. "Sailors have a certain amount of restriction in their lifestyle that leads to such things. I do not think there is anything wrong with that. It brings many of them enjoyment and comfort, which I cannot condemn."

Segundus nodded.

"But I did not care to engage in it." Childermass shrugged. "There did not seem to be any point with someone I scarcely knew, and of course you already know that such things do not hold any particularly strong attractions for me. And so I refused."

"Did any of them - ?" Segundus felt  a horrible gnawing worry growing in his stomach.

"No. Nothing like that." Childermass took Segundus's hand and squeezed it. "You need not worry."

"I am always worry about you," said Segundus. "You give me great motivation to be. I should not like to stop now that I have got into the habit."

Childermass smiled a smile that was tired but not defeated.

"What did they do?" Segundus laced his fingers with Childermass's. "They did not hurt you?"

"They told me not to be so precious about it." Childermass shrugged. "I have had worse. But you see what I mean? Not one thing."

Segundus nodded. "I think I understand. There was - I have had more than one relationship of this type, with men and women both, and most of them were very kind to me, but… I told you about Swithin."

"Aye."

"Well. Sometimes he would tell me something very similar."

Childermass's face shifted; there was something dangerous in the lines of his mouth. "Still alive, is he?"

"As far as I know, yes."

"Not for long."

Segundus shook his head. "I loved him. But I thought I could not. You know, men of our sort, it is meant to physical - and even that is a deviance. And we had something else, which was just as important to me, and I thought it was important to him. It was not, you understand, that I did not enjoy or want the physical. I do not think I am of your type, exactly. But sometimes - " He stopt, then tried again. "It felt very intense. I do enjoy it, but less often than others seem to. And I began to feel that I was not allowed to enjoy other things more, or that I was good for nothing else."

"Was he the last person?" Childermass asked, quietly.

"Mary was after." Segundus shrugged. "That was not so bad; she was understanding. But that was not really the same sort of thing as I had with him, and as I have with you. And so the last impression I have of love, I suppose, is him. But now there is you."

The danger had crystallized into a look of fierce protectiveness; Segundus could not look at Childermass's face because he could not understand the expression there, as if Segundus was something very valuable and important that someone had threatened. He buried his face in Childermass's shoulder. Childermass's arms came up around him, holding him tightly.

"So you see," said Segundus into his shoulder, muffled, "I do not mind. Really I do not. Should you ever want to - ah, I would be glad, but I am content with the way things are. You are enough." He raised his face to look again at Childermass. "You are, you know."

Childermass blinked at him a few times and then leaned in to kiss him, softly, as if one of them might break. Segundus was not sure it was not Childermass himself.

"And so are you," said Childermass. "So are you."

 


End file.
